


It’s A Trap

by ohgodmyeyes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Compassionate Anakin Skywalker, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Everyday Problems, F/M, Gender-neutral Reader, Good Intentions, Gross, Humour, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, One of My Favorites, Reader-Insert, Relationship(s), Short One Shot, Slice of Life, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24209314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohgodmyeyes/pseuds/ohgodmyeyes
Summary: Your apartment has a bit of a bug problem, and you are completely fed up with it.Luckily, Anakin knows just what to do.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	It’s A Trap

**Author's Note:**

> I don't often say this about my own stuff, but goddamn I fucking love this story.

They were tiny, they were disgusting, and they were _everywhere._

They popped up in the bathroom at all hours of the night and day, crawled across the kitchen countertop with abandon, and ruined any food you left out if you dared to turn your back from it for even a minute. You hated them, and they were making you miserable.

“Fuck, Anakin! I hate this place!” You were standing in the kitchen, feeling distinctly fed up.

“What? What’s the problem?” He sat down at the table, lit a cigarette, and looked at you as though you were crazy.

“It’s the goddamn cockroaches! They’re all over the fucking place!”

“Huh? They’re just little bugs.” Anakin had been relatively nonchalant about the problem since its commencement; you, however, wanted the little intruders purged from your life.

“They’re awful, and they need to die!” You spotted one crawling across the floor right then; stomped on it. “I’m going out to buy poison.”

“Aw, babe, you know I don’t like that shit,” protested Anakin, with a long and very ironic drag off his smoke.

“What the fuck do you want me to do, then? These little assholes are ruining my life!” They were. You hadn’t made a sandwich without fear in weeks. You’d found, in fact, that both you and the roaches shared an affinity for sliced, raw onions.

“‘Ruining your life’? They’re just trying to live _their_ lives, you know.” He blew a few hazy rings into the air, and waved his hand at you dismissively. 

“Fucking hell Ani, I don’t care _what_ they’re trying to do! They don’t pay rent here, and they’re not going to ‘live their lives’ at _my_ expense!” You threw your own arms up in the air. “If you can’t come up with a better idea by the end of the day, I’m going to the hardware store and coming back with enough toxic shit to turn this place into a fucking gas chamber!”

You didn’t wait for him to answer; you simply stormed out, prepared to pull out your credit card later on that evening for the express purpose of filling your home with a vile concoction of deadly chemicals.

...

_Did you take care of it, or do I need to make a stop on my way home?_

You texted Anakin this from your car, in anticipation of having to stop for poison. You were quite confident that there was nothing he could have done in the past few hours to even begin to rid your home of those cockroaches.

_Come right back, my love— they’re nearly all gone._

You were highly skeptical, but you did trust Anakin. He’d scarcely ever let you down before, in fact. After eyeing your phone indecisively for a few moments, you opted to put your wallet away, and drive on home. You were just about always willing to give Ani a chance.

When you opened the front door, the apartment was relatively quiet... and you detected the distinct odour of raw onions permeating the air. Anakin must have known what they liked best; had he designed some sort of trap? He’d always been good at building things, after all.

“Ani?” You looked around the living room; peered down the hallway in the direction of the bathroom, too. All of the lights were on, but he was nowhere to be seen. “Anakin!” Had the roaches eaten him, _and_ all of your onions?

You walked into the kitchen last, positive that you would find him there.

“Anakin, wh—”

From behind the very end of the counter, a hand shot up to silence you— it was his. All you could see of him was the arm he’d raised; whatever he was doing, he was doing it very quietly. 

You went quiet for him, too, but continued on into the room. As you approached the end of the surface on which you prepared all of your meals, you realized that Ani had, in fact, set a trap... however, this was no _ordinary_ trap. 

It was so out-of-the-ordinary that you found yourself unable to maintain your silence, except to clamp both of your hands tightly over your mouth. You wanted to scream. 

On the floor at the very end of the kitchen, Anakin was kneeling. His mouth, exactly level with the countertop, was wide open. There was a little pile of chopped onions sitting atop his tongue... and a long, winding line of cockroaches eagerly marching right toward it.

Some of the bugs were still on the counter, but the inside of his mouth was almost entirely black with them. They crawled atop the onions, around his teeth, and over each other. His beautiful blue eyes were fixed sharply on those of them which had not yet entered his ‘trap’; you could tell that he was waiting patiently for them to join their brethren in vying for a taste of those irresistibly tangy veggies he’d laid out just for their pleasure.

You watched in abject horror until the last of the sickening little insects had been lured into Anakin’s mouth; once he was sure they were all gone from the counter, he stood up, and pursed his lips.

Perhaps the only thing worse than watching him trap them was listening to the sound they made between his teeth as he began to chew. 

Finally, you weren’t afraid to scare them off; shouted, “What the _fuck_ , Anakin?!”

He swallowed; held up his hand once more to indicate that you should wait while he went to the refrigerator, retrieved a carton of orange juice, and took a huge gulp of it straight from the spout.

You would remember to throw that container into the trash later.

Finally— incredulously— he asked you much the same as he had in the morning, _”What?”_

You could hardly string two words together. “You— you just— did you— _is this what you’ve been doing all day, Anakin?”_ You should never have left him alone in the house; you suspected you might never leave him unmonitored again.

Not after this.

He merely shrugged, and lit one of his cigarettes— presumably to remove from his mouth the taste of the cockroach purée he’d just generated with his teeth. You usually didn’t appreciate his smoking, but this time? 

This time, you truly couldn’t blame him.

“Fucking hell, Ani, I thought you said they were just trying to live their lives!”

“They were— but _you_ said they were bothering you. So, I found a way to get rid of them naturally.” With a grin and a drag of his smoke, “I’d feel like a piece of shit for poisoning them, but this way, they at least get put to use.”

“‘To use’?”

“Sure— do you have any idea how many of them there were? I’ll barely need to eat dinner tonight. Those little guys are _fuel_ , now!” He looked quite proud of himself; perhaps he didn’t recognize the persistent look of disgust on your face.

He must not have.

“Anakin,” you started, but he didn’t let you finish— instead, he stepped forward and wrapped you up in his arms; thrust his tongue into your gaping mouth as he kissed you deeply. He tasted like smoke and orange juice; coupled with an earthy, metallic note unlike anything you’d ever experienced before.

When he pulled away, the look in his eyes was one of utmost love and affection— he really had done this just for you. He was beautiful, and you knew that you were lucky to have such a well-intentioned partner with whom to share your life.

In spite of this, you turned immediately away from him. With tears stinging the corners of your eyes, you leaned over the sink and vomited; let loose the entire contents of your stomach directly down the drain.

You hoped that Anakin, in his infinite kindness, would understand.


End file.
